An Evening with Gauguin’s Women

Driving into town on Friday, we passed a community center near the beach that was bustling with activity. Freida, our cab driver, mentioned they were preparing for a special Mother’s Day celebration. We had her swing in and make a reservation for us for the Saturday night buffet and dance ceremony.

After a full day of touring the island on Saturday, we were all a little tired and questioning our ability to party all night long, but we got a short rest, dingied into the beach, and walked about a mile down the road to the community center. A bevy of attractive Marquesan women in their beautiful Polynesian print dresses and flowered headbands greeted us, collected our $22 entrance fee, and showed us to our table. As usual, we were a little early so we sat and drank water (no alcohol served) and watched as the participants arrived. The women were mostly tall and attractive and I realized some of these could have been the subject of one of the hundreds of paintings that Paul Gauguin did while he lived in the nearby Atuona village.

Gauguin was somewhat of a rogue in those days, with a strong proclivity for very young girls. He was essentially run out of Paris and set up camp Tahiti, and after wearing out his welcome there he retired to Atuona where he continued his aberrant behavior. His house was proclaimed Maison du Jouir (House of Pleasure). He was so bad that the local priest made a mandatory attendance rule for all young girls living with in a 2 ½ mile radius of the school to simply keep them away from Gauguin. He died a pauper riddled with syphilis, alcoholism, and with no recognition of his immense talent. Despite his behavior, he was one of the greatest artists of the French Impressionist period and he immortalized the young beauties of the Marquesas forever.

Mother and daughter with beautiful couronne de tetes.

While we sat and nursed our glasses of water we watched a continuing parade of Marquesans entering the hall. The women wore beautiful crowns of gardenia, plumeria, hibiscus, and bougainvillea, called a couronne de tete (crown of the head). Many were statuesque, standing over six feet tall and wearing beautiful Polynesian print dresses. The men resembled the front line of the Green Bay Packers, walking mountains of masculinity. Given the warlike history of these islands, it’s easy to understand why physical size was of importance.

I have never seen a buffet be depleted of food as fast as this one. A real testimony to the quality of the cooking and the appetites of the participants.

A local band played both French and Marquesan music and once all the seats were taken -- over 100 people in total -- a hostesses made an announcement in French resulting in everyone jumping up and heading to the buffet line. A Belgium cruiser later told me the hostess said “It’s time to eat and I’d hurry because these guys eat like pigs.” We had to fight to get a serving spoon in some of the more popular dishes, jostling against 200 to 300 lb. men with ravenous appetites. It was a rather comical scene.

Since we didn’t know what anything was, I’d sneak a bite from my plate, and then load up on my favored foods. I have to say it was some of the best home cooked food I’ve had in a long time. The combination of French cuisine and Marquesan cooking produced very delicious food. Now I understand the rush to the buffet table. The chicken with sweet and sour sauce alone was worth a plane ticket to Atuona.

This is real Polynesian dancing, not the stuff you see at Disneyland.

The fluidity and sheer enthusiasm of the dancers made this a very special night.

Following the dinner the band broke into a Marquesan song and six beautiful young women came out dancing a traditional Polynesian dance, with rhythmically swaying hips and hands describing the storyline. Given the synchronicity of their movements you can tell they’ve been dancing since a very young age and enjoy the freedom of the Polynesian dance style.

Later they opened up the dance floor to everyone and we were surprised to see how expertly the large Marquesan men moved their wives around the dance floor. Meryl and I even danced a few numbers but I didn’t have the body weight to hold my own when we’d bump into another couple.

Thank God we had a mile long walk back to the anchorage. It gave us a chance to work off the huge meal and the richness of the food.